


The Man in the Moon

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: Tol Rider Barry 'verse [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (and dragons), Angst, Dragons, Gen, Let's Handle This Like Emotionally Stunted Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: Barry and Eobard go on an evening flight.





	The Man in the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> whoa, this series is still alive? What a concept

After Lisa jots down Barry’s measurements, it takes a week for the riding clothes to arrive. Apparently Lisa has connections in Central who specialize in working with dragon-proof materials.

“Eobard gave me some designs a couple months ago,” Lisa says with a wink, “my friend is _very_ happy with them.”

“Please tell me they don’t have ‘property of Eobard’ on them,” Barry says. She laughs, but they both know he’s not joking.

Despite his anticipation buzzing in their bond, Eobard insists on waiting until Barry gets his clothes. He sees them as something official, a uniform, the assurance that Barry is _his_ rider and isn’t going anywhere. Barry can tell because during his first real week in the stronghold, their bond only grows in his head. If he couldn’t ignore it before, it’s a second heartbeat now.

What’s worse is how hard it’s getting to not sink into it. Eobard’s grown to what he estimates will be his full height of twenty-two feet, and he’s becoming more and more of a comforting bastion no matter how Barry tries to think otherwise. He is abrasive, rough, and possessive, but he’s—Barry can’t explain it, but now when he looks at his dragon, he feels like he’s looking at an extension of himself.

It’s only been 7 days. What’s it gonna be like next week?

Eobard, of course, picks up on the question and replies curtly, “With any luck, you’ll stop being so stubborn.”

One day, late in the afternoon, Lisa just shows up with a package in her hands. Reluctantly, Barry takes it back to his room. Eobard eagerly uses his talon to slash it open.

Regardless of his trepidation, Barry’s mouth drops as he reaches inside. Goggles, round-framed and scarlet red, boast yellow zig-zag lightning strikes etched on the sides of the flexible strap. He thought Lisa hadn’t taken him seriously when he’d asked for them.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Eobard says, “They’re practical.” His tone, while mellowed over the past few days, is still irritatingly arrogant and lofty.

Setting the goggles on his bed, Barry pulls out the rest of his clothes. Gloves of the same shade are folded on top, and they have yellow markings along the bottom, a scheme to match the rest of the ensemble: a jacket with a large lightning bolt in a white circle on the back, fading into Eobard’s red like a red-and-yellow version of the Northern Lights. The collar has two buttons and a strong zipper. The pants, however, have no buttons or anything, nor do the boots.

“Well?” Eobard snaps, “Put them on!”

Barry can’t tell whose excitement is whose, or if it’s all Eobard’s. He’s pulling off his shirt before his brain catches up to him. But he owes Lisa and Eobard for those calls to his family, so he keeps going.

Eobard huffs. “Use your speed, Barry.”

Barry hesitates, biting his lip. Superspeed, he’s come to find, is as addictive as it is fun. Every time he accesses it, the rush blows the bond open wide as it can go, and he gets high on the sense of being _more_ , feeling Eobard’s breath with his own, humming as their thoughts combine into a perfect circuit—and therein lies the problem. He doesn’t feel human when he’s using it, and humanity’s the one thing he can cling to with any sort of security.

( _And his dragon,_ whispers his bond, but he shakes the thought away.)

Eobard’s talons dig into the floor. “Barry. _Do it_.”

Barry’s veins jolt, as if Eobard’s kickstarting them. Suddenly Barry’s a whirl of sensations once again, and the uniform’s hugging his body in less than half a second.

Dazed, Barry replies, “There. Happy?”

Feral satisfaction curls warmly in his chest. Eobard adores his designs on his rider.

“This can withstand our lightning,” the dragon says, voice low with pride, “Now, we can fly as long as we want, as fast as we want.”

Barry swallows, trying not to revel in shared delight at the idea and piercing longing for the skies. He removes his goggles and rubs his eyes.

When he opens them, he’s wrapped his arms around Eobard’s large jaw and sighing under the blissful crackles of electricity, identical to his own, sparking through his dragon’s scales.

Frustration slaps him as he yanks back and says, “I guess I should tell Lisa I’m heading out with you.”

Eobard’s teeth gleam. “Next time, Mr. Allen, don’t talk to your dragon about an upcoming flight like it’s a _chore_.”

Barry recoils for all of a second before he clenches his fists and retorts, “Next time, try not being such a dick and I might look forward to flying.”

They stomp their way to the corridor, Eobard griping, “You _do_ look forward to them, you just hate to admit it. _Don’t_ lie to me, we share a mind.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Why are you such a child?”

“If you think I’m such a child, why did you bond with me?”

“For the _last time_ —”

“I didn’t bond with you on purpose!”

When Eobard roars, Barry roars back. The dragon swipes at him, and Barry dodges in a fit of lightning. He goes in for a punch, and Eobard rears out of the way.

“How touching,” Snart drawls. Barry and Eobard turn to see him and Amphitrite watching in amusement. When he has Barry’s attention, Snart leers and says, “Nice digs, Barry. Our associate outdid themselves.”

Barry’s face heats. “What do you want, Snart?”

“Guy can’t take a walk in his own base? Amphitrite and I just went on a nice little flight. Looks like you’re about to head out yourself.”

“Trying to, anyway,” Eobard mutters.

Barry hisses at him.

“You know, Barry,” Snart says, “for all your posturing, you’re doing a good job of embracing that dragon voice.”

Barry freezes. Eobard seems surprised too—seems neither of them notice.

Snart steps into Barry’s space. “Let’s see if you embrace anything else.” He picks at the uniform. “Have a nice time.”

Amphitrite nudges him to the left, not towards their quarters but to the water deeper within the mountain. Snart follows with a steady stream of caresses under their chin.

Eobard nudges Barry forward. Barry pushes him away and stalks off.

 

With Lisa’s eager blessing, Barry puts Eobard’s blanket on and waits for his dragon to saddle up. Eobard ties the bag now always around his neck to his saddle, mindful of their egg inside.

“When are they gonna hatch?” Barry asks.

“There’s no way to tell,” Eobard replies, “Biologically, they’re fully developed, have been for a few years less than I was.”

Barry reaches up just as Eobard crouches down, double-checking the bag’s knot. “Why didn’t they hatch with you?”

Eobard quietly scoffs. “I suspect they trust you too much. The egg can be—comfortable, if you’re in the right environment.”

“You know trust can be good for relationships, right?” Barry asks.

Eobard scowls. “Take your own advice.”

The winter sun set quickly. By the time Barry mounts, the stars are coming out. Eobard rockets into the air, and everything—anger, resentment, confusion, panic—fades to nothing but the thrill of their lightning.

They even out above the few scattered clouds, basking in the rising moonlight. Barry starts in his seat when he looks down and sees Central City directly below.

“You miss it,” Eobard says simply, “and flying over a forest can get old.”

Barry has to admit that it’s a beautiful view. The easy air currents carry Eobard for the most part, making it a smooth ride. From here, Central City is quiet, a stretch of light and moving specks.

Barry frowns, murmuring, “Joe and Iris are down there right now. They’ve still got about an hour left at work.”

Eobard is silent.

“There’s STAR Labs,” Barry says, pointing, “which makes the precinct about there, and Jitters…probably just over there.”

“I want to trust you.”

Barry whips his head around.

Eobard keeps his eyes forward. “You’re my rider, Barry. You reached out to me, and I accepted you. But I can’t give anymore until I know you will accept me as well.”

Barry’s hands flex around the saddle horn. “Why me, though? If you were developed like you said, you had to’ve had a sense of who I was.”

“I sensed a frightened boy in need of a friend,” Eobard replies, “a protector. A heart experiencing the horrors of the world for the first time, but resilient all the same.”

Barry averts his eyes back to his city. “Still think I’m worth it?”

“I linked our power, didn’t I? Do you think _I_ am?”

Barry bites his lip. “I guess I don’t have a choice but to find out.”

“Since you’re the one who initiated the bond, no, you don’t. Not about that, anyway. But I meant what I said.”

“Then give me a straight answer: do you think I’m worth this?”

“Yes.”

Barry blinks. “Oh. Uh.”

Eobard’s amusement pokes at his temple.

“I…I mean. I want to—I just want to keep being me.”

“I told you what will happen. It is your decision whether you allow those physical changes to alter you as a person.”

Barry snorts. “Kinda sounds like puberty.”

Eobard rolls his eyes. “I suppose it’s like that—just a bit more drastic.”

“Yeah, a little.”

For a moment, their thoughts reach a contented equilibrium, one not born of their speed.

“Oh,” Barry whispers.

Eobard banks back towards the stronghold. “We both have work to do, Barry. But if you’re willing, I will cooperate with you.”

It’s almost funny. For all their shared thoughts, this is the first time Barry can actually feel like he understands Eobard’s mind.

“Not entirely,” Eobard says, “but with time, and trust—I don’t see why you couldn’t.”

Barry rubs the back of his neck. “I do best when I can research stuff.”

“I’m sure the Snarts can accommodate.” After a beat, Eobard adds, “I’m the same.”

“Have you looked up anything?”

“I—thought I had the relevant information.”

Barry’s eyebrows rise. “I mean—”

“I know,” Eobard grumbles.

The equilibrium is dangerously close to settling.

Cautiously, Barry allows it. And he feels—he feels like himself. Just…better.

Eobard lands. Barry climbs down, looking around. All is quiet, just like that first day.

“So,” Eobard says, “we have an agreement?”

Barry takes a deep breath. “If you agree to start trusting me, I promise I’ll try to do the same.”

Eobard dips his head. Barry steadies his hands and, haltingly, strokes his snout.

“Then I promise you will see your family again,” Eobard says.

Barry’s lightning lights his eyes. “ _What_?”

“If I can trust you, then I’ll have no reason not to let you go to Central. I’ll be able to rest easy knowing that you will return.”

The possibility alone ignites memories of Iris and Joe’s faces. Barry casts all notions of manipulation out—probably Eobard’s thoughts more than his—and grips that tiny jaw.

“You’d really do that?”

“I would.”

Barry’s eyes sting. “I—that’s—yes, we have a deal.”

Eobard lets out a billowing breath. “We have a deal.”

“…we should probably eat something. It’s about dinnertime.”

“Yes.”

Barry glances over his shoulder.

He musters a smile and asks, “Race you?”

Eobard is still grotesque, but the thrumming between them draws Barry closer.

“You’ll lose,” Eobard says.

“Says who? Come on, let’s start at the entrance. You fly, I run.”

“You want to run against my wings? You are _definitely_ going to lose.”

“Hey! Have a little faith.”

Their bond is still strained, still wary. Barry knows they have plenty of fights ahead of them, plenty of worries and tension. But this is a start.

“Ready…set… _go_!”


End file.
